


They Were Kids That I Once Knew

by eraleon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: A Journey, A downwards spiral, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Post Project Freelancer, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, a lot to cover kinda, doctors are great people, more to be added - Freeform, the start of Recovery One, therapists man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7505197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eraleon/pseuds/eraleon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tell me, tell me, what would you do, what would you think, if you woke up crushed under debris, in a ship, with everyone either gone or dead, and you were all alone? What would you do, what would you think, if someone you thought would help and guide you, nearly killed you?</p><p>Washington's time before and during Recovery One. As he navigates his way from rock bottom, he will find our the truths and lies about Project Freelancer, and just where he truly lies in the fight he never wanted part in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Were Kids That I Once Knew

How long had it been? How long had he been sitting there, fingers intertwined with each other, shoulders tense, back hunched, gaze resting on the floor, expression solemn? How long had it been since the ship had crashed, since he's screamed out in to the darkness and abyss of alarms, blaring constantly, deafeningly, for nothing to happen? How long has it been since physical therapy, since he first saw the fresh new scars along his back and neck? How long since his blond hair had become overgrown, usually so tidy against his jawline, now growing past such? 

The brown side he so meticulously dyed annually was now faded, blond roots showing through and making Washington cringe every time he saw them. He turned the mirrors around, every single one of them  -- Or broke them, until they no longer put him in a field's distance of mirrors. A trigger, they called it. 

What bullshit.

They didn't know what he saw, what he continued to see, what continued to haunt him. They could never, never know.

He wouldn't let them know.

Everything felt so far away most of the time, now. Nothing felt real, nothing he touched or ate felt... Tangible. It felt like he was moving on autopilot, as if he couldn't control his own limbs.

When he woke up, when he couldn't move his legs, couldn't really feel his lower body, it terrified him. Sent him in to a frenzy. Now... Now, nothing really mattered.

And it was the first time in weeks since he had seen the Counselor. Washington supposes he had died, or fled with the ship, but he never really gave it much thought at all. It didn't bother him.

Right now, however, with the smooth voice, void of any emotion, it only upset the already fragile Freelancer further. His mind continued to wander, gaze never once breaking away from the steel flooring, eyes never blinking. He didn't feel the pain, didn't feel the dryness. ( It didn't really matter much more. ) 

What to think, what to think?

How to answer, how to answer?

So he hummed, or his mouth so much as twitched, and the Counselor must have taken it as an answer to questions.

Until he grew to be too unresponsive to the man.

"...shington? Agent Washington?"

Blue eyes slowly came to, slowly traveled up from the floor to meet with a calculating face.

"Mm."

"Are you listening?"

"Mmhm." A somewhat stronger, more confident reply.

"Are you continuing to think about Epsilon? About the Mother of Invention?"

Dry lips parted slightly, closed, and parted once more as Washington painfully swallowed.

"...Yes, sir."

"What happened on the Mother of Invention was not your fault, Agent Washington."

His eyebrow twitched, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards. The words were enough to move him to tears, ever so strangely.

"How... Can you be so sure, sir?"

"You did not crash the ship. You did not betray the Project, Washington. You were safe."

"Safe? But... I was trapped --"

"You were merely hallucinating."

Waashington's eyes unfocused, and refocused, eyebrows finally furrowing downwards in to a frown as one single statement drove his mind into a somewhat lethargic frenzy. 

"Hallucinating? I was just -- Hallucinating?" 

The Counselor was quick to answer, his fingers tapping away at his datapad with a cold stare.

"Yes, Agent Washington. You were hallucinating. What do you feel when you think of Epsilon?"

A hand ascends to grip his shoulder, fingers playing with the folds of his hood near the implantation site, where his skin still buzzed ever so dully. 

"I feel... sad. Angry... sort of? I can't really remember what happened. Do you... know where he went, Counselor? He won't talk to me anymore. Did I do something wrong?"

The Counselor paused, chin lifting to meet steadily with a weary gaze. 

"Epsilon is gone. However, I did not remove him from your implantations, Washington. _You_ did, don't you remember?"

Another thing he was accused of, and it sent faint alarms going inside of his head, which only further triggered his pounding headache and confusion. The ship's alarms, they sounded the same.

He couldn't be back on the MoI, could he? It crashed, he couldn't have been. He was hallucinating again. 

The Counselor would be too disappointed with him if he started to lose it again now, especially after the last couple of sessions.

"I -- I did -- ? But I miss him, Counselor. Why would I?"

"It is because you hated him. He showed you things you couldn't bear to handle, and he manipulated you in to doing things, much to your anger and confusion."

The feeling that overcame Washington was almost unbearable, but he wailed, and caved in around himself even more. He leaned forward until he was against his legs, shoulders going slack and fingers digging in to his hoodie. 

"I don't remember -- All I remember is anger, and hatred, but I don't know towards what -- Is it true, Counselor? He used me?"

"You were nothing but his pawn, Agent Washington. Come, I think you need to lay down again. This information might be too much for you to handle at this very moment."

And the nurses came forward, to which arms gently helped the trembling man up, and slowly lead him out of the room with a quiet "thank you" from Washington. 

"We will meet sometime in the next two weeks. Take care of yourself."

 

He was scared. So, very frightened.

**Author's Note:**

> well this'll be fun.


End file.
